


Hitch in the Road

by Yoshishisha



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Eggsy as Galahad, Harry as Galahad, Harry is alive, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Roxy Is a Good Bro, obviously, why would he not be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 13:31:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7759681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoshishisha/pseuds/Yoshishisha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Harry's return and his re-establishment as Kingsman operative Galahad alongside Eggsy, everything seems to be going well. That is, right until a friendly sparring session gets out of control, and someone gets hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What a Mess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missbecky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbecky/gifts).



Eggsy still couldn’t believe it: so much of his life had changed in so little time! There he was, a full Kingsman agent living in the Galahad mansion with his mentor. Chancing a look at Harry from the kitchen where he was preparing their dinner, Eggsy couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face at the fond glare Harry sent him. After all, the fact that he’d even been acknowledged meant that Harry was in particularly good mood, for he usually didn’t bother looking at his protege to reprimand him.

“Is that burning meat I smell, Eggsy?” the daft git asked as he went back to work.

Eggsy huffed, but dutifully went back to the kitchen with a last barb. “I haven’t even put the chicken in yet. Have your senses been rusting what with you sitting at your desk all day?”

Harry didn’t even bother honoring that reply with a response. Not that Eggsy had expected anything less, if he was honest. However, the fond smile remained on his face as he remembered how they’d come to live together.

After the heart-stopping horror that had been Harry’s defeat at Valentine’s hand and the event that followed, Eggsy had earned a field promotion to Kingsman under the name of Galahad. It had been hard for Eggsy to accept at first, but he’d taken on the mantle with all the talent and poise necessary to ensure that Harry would’ve been proud of him, if he’d still been alive. He would mourn of course, but… Life went on. (Or at least, that was what he’d tell himself when he’d wake up trembling and gasping, mouth still shaped around the sound of Harry’s name).

However, Eggsy hadn’t gotten much time to adapt to this new reality before it had been upturned by Harry once again, this time because of his return. And hadn’t it been a surprise. Eggsy had nearly turned right around at the sight of Harry in his  kitchen, calm as you please with that fucking unflappable expression of his.

In the end, there ended up being two Galahads. Eggsy had insisted  to Ninive (who was apparently handling most of Kingsman administration) that the name should be given back to Harry as was his due, but the older agent had apparently already asked the exact opposite. However, as neither man was willing to let the other lose the prestigious title, Merlin had ended up taking the decision out of their hands and forcing them both to keep the name, along with all the resources it came with: a seat at the round table, unlimited access to Kingsman facilities, and the Galahad house.

Eggsy laughed to himself as he put the chicken into the sauce and lowered the heat to let it simmer with the reminder of those first few weeks living together. Settling onto the sofa in the living room, Eggsy settled himself for his favourite past-time: Harry-watching. He’d taken to it a few days after Harry’s return, almost to remind himself that it was alright; Harry was alright. Unfortunately for the younger man, those periods of observation had also taken the burgeoning of Eggsy’s hero-worship and turned it into a full-blown crush on his mentor. It wasn’t quite a hardship, and definitely not unpleasant, but Eggsy didn’t know what to do with it. Moreover, he didn’t want to put the easy camaraderie he’d finally achieved with the older man in jeopardy after they’d each apologised for that abysmal last conversation before Kentucky.

Unwilling to confront those uncomfortable feelings, Eggsy looked around, searching for a distraction. The only interesting thing in the room seemed to be Harry however, which meant…

“Harry?” Eggsy asked, letting his tongue roll around the syllable to elongate it as it left his mouth.

His mischievous mood must’ve showed on his face, because Harry actually set down his pen and pushed the paperwork aside as he looked down at the younger man. Eggsy let his shite-eating grin grow as he very deliberately looked up at his mentor. And fuck was the man gorgeous, Eggsy thought. Especially when he was looking down on him like that, all intent and entirely focused on him, as though Eggsy was worthy of all his attention.

“You aren’t planning on letting me work, are you,” the man said flatly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his hands in his lap.

“No chance in fucking hell, bruv’,” Eggsy answered, accent deliberately thickening around the words to get a rise out of Harry.

“Then since you seem intent on wasting both your and my time, why don’t I make worth your while?” the man said, sending Eggsy’s blood running with the probably unintentional invitation he could hear in his mentor’s words. Harry had stood up as he spoke, and he was now standing in front of the table, a direct line of sight to Eggsy’s position a few meters away.

“A spar,” Harry continued. “You and me, anything allowed so long as we do not break anything.” He raised a challenging eyebrow. “Interested?”

“Sure,” Eggsy replied, stretching from his leaning position on the couch. “I’d be careful though; you might start getting slow in your old age,” he teased, eyes tinted with mirth. “Name the time and place; I’m your man.”

Harry didn’t wait for further confirmation before he was onto Eggsy. “Right here, right now,” he growled, crossing the remaining distance in a few steps to land a blow right where Eggsy had been a second prior.

As the spar continued, the rhythm of their dangerous dance increased. Eggsy laughed as Harry struck a hole through his defensive stance, the knight locking a challenging gaze with his student as he smirked.

“Who seems to be getting slow in their old age now, Eggsy?”

Eggsy shifted onto the balls of his feet for better mobility, then feinted to the right in order to better launch a kick that made Harry stumble on his feet. “Still you as far as I see, old man,” the younger grinned.

Harry’s only response was to up the ante, moving in closer and using miscellaneous items as weapons. Eggsy was once again forced into the defensive as he was suddenly attacked with a combination of a fork and a small wooden statuette Harry apparently did not hold in high esteem, from the way he was swinging it around to be blocked by Eggsy’s arms.

As funny as the younger man found the image of posh and proper Harry Hart fighting with common house items, the image rather uncomfortably reminded Eggsy of Dean, who would use anything that was within reach to beat him down when he was in one of his moods. Harry would never do that, Eggsy knew. But his mentor’s relentless attacks made it hard to think in the midst of the fight. Vaulting over the couch to avoid being backed into a corner (Dean did it all the time and Eggsy hated that), Eggsy picked up a pen and the telly remote to arm himself. However, Harry did not even give Eggsy time to breathe before was onto him again. His attacks kept coming faster, and Eggsy was beginning to feel closed in and overwhelmed.

In another situation, Eggsy would’ve very much enjoyed the closeness, especially since Harry tended to ruffle Eggsy's hair to destroy his concentration. However, at the moment, Eggsy could only try and keep Dean’s specter at bay while they fought. Soon enough, Eggsy lack of focus became his downfall, and a well-placed kick to the stomach brought him to his knees.

“Not doing so good, now, are we?” was the only words Eggsy heard from over him as his attacker approached. When a heavy hand was brought down onto his shoulder, Eggsy was brought out of his stupor long enough to lash out instinctively with the hand holding the pen, backing away hurriedly to watch his attacker from afar.

His blood froze as he realised where exactly he was, and the enormity of what he’d just done.

“Harry!” he exclaimed as he saw the older man hold his eye, a thin line of blood visible where Eggsy’s pen had dug into his temple. Right over the scar Valentine had left.


	2. Tactical Retreat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry feels guilty, and decides that the best tactic is to avoid the issue entirely.

Harry couldn’t look at Eggsy.

He wanted to, oh how he wanted, but he couldn’t. Harry wished he could look at his darling boy; to apologize, to ensure he was alright, to understand what in his actions could have led Eggsy to believe Harry would seriously hurt him. But he already knew, didn’t he?

_When Harry had woken up in the Kingsman medical bay, it had felt to him as though the church massacre had been scant hours ago. Merlin had been the one at his bedside, berating Harry for taking so long to wake up, and preparing him for Eggsy._

_It was then that Merlin told Harry that Eggsy had been particularly affected by Harry’s injuries and deaths._

_It was then that Harry remembered he had left his computer open to monitor the feed of his glasses. It was then that Harry realised that Eggsy had seen what a monster he could be. Harry had known, of course, about the deep recesses of his psyche. He’d been conscious of the fact that he could and would be able to kill a room full of people if he ever felt it was necessary. That hadn’t been the case when Valentine’s gadget had taken over his mind, but it reminded him uncomfortably of the truth._

_Harry was not the gentleman he desperately showed Eggsy. And that day, Valentine’s day, Eggsy had seen proof of Harry’s inner-darkness in high definition from one of Merlin’s specially commissioned computer. Harry would understand if Eggsy didn’t want to face him; because in those conditions, Harry wouldn’t want to face himself either._

And now, the fact that Eggsy had attacked him (defended himself, Harry corrected) by stabbing over the wound Valentine had left brought Harry back to that moment. And Harry remembered. Remembered the fact that he had killed dozens of people while he wasn’t in control of his own actions. Remembered enjoying it, remembered thinking they deserved it, and his hands started to shake as he remembered feeling like maybe the shot to his face afterwards had been his penance.

No wonder Eggsy wouldn’t look at him, Harry realised as he chanced a look at his partner. Eggsy’s gaze was stubbornly fixed on the ground in a way Harry knew meant the younger man was attempting to avoid an unpleasant situation. The dull throbbing pain at his temple was echoed by an equally queasy one in his chest as the older man realised that _he_ most probably was the cause of that discomfort.  

Picking himself up smoothly as he let a bland smile slide over his expression, Harry gathered his bearings. “No harm done, Eggsy,” he said though he didn’t reach his hand out to help the other get up. Such a gesture probably wouldn’t be welcome, if Eggsy’s previous reaction was to be trusted.

“But I do believe Merlin will be expecting me by now, and I must see myself out.”

Harry didn’t look back as he left. It would be better if he gave Eggsy some space after all. Perhaps he should not come back to the Galahad house for a while.

* * *

 Harry’s attempts at giving Eggsy some much needed space turned out to be much more difficult than expected. Merlin could call him an idiot all he wanted, but Harry honestly hadn’t realised how much time he and Eggsy spent together on a regular basis.

The main problem wasn’t to avoid being seen by Eggsy, as Harry had anticipated. As brilliant as his partner was during missions, Harry had been a spy for much longer and thus had more than one trick in his bag.

No, the problem instead seemed to be Harry’s soft spot for Eggsy. Try as he might, the older man found it very hard to ignore Eggsy. During their acquaintance, the two Galahads had developed a hyperawareness of the other’s location at all times, and Harry found it very difficult to let go of that.

As it was, Harry spent the vast majority of his free time thinking about Eggsy and what his partner could be doing at that very moment. At work, he would try to determine where Eggsy was, or catch a glimpse of his partner in between mission. In Merlin’s home where he’d decided to stay, he would ask for news of the younger man and deftly ignore any attempt at interrogation his best friend made.

It wasn’t ideal, but surely Eggsy was better without him, considering the circumstances of their last encounter.


	3. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxy is done with this shit

 “Harry hates me,” Eggsy finally admitted under Roxy’s probing gaze.

Roxy rolled her eyes at that, her entire head following the motion, and Eggsy let out a dismayed groan even as he desperately willed her to understand. Somehow, saying the words aloud made the situation seem more real than before. Eggsy wasn’t exaggerating; he wasn’t panicking unnecessarily, he was basing himself on truth and facts, like the perfect little spy he was pretending to be.

Harry did hate him, and with very good reason at that.

“Harry doesn’t hate you,” Roxy said, echoing his thoughts. Eggsy returned his gaze to her as she continued. “Eggsy, Harry couldn’t even pretend to hate you if his life was at stake; you’re his favourite and everyone knows it.”

Eggsy let out a scoff that held a distinctively wet undertone at that particular lie. That sentence might have rang true once upon a time, but it sure as hell didn’t now. This wasn’t the first time Eggsy had garnered Harry’s hatred, disgust, or disappointment. It wasn’t the first time Harry couldn’t bear to look at him without the heavy weight of scorn in his gaze.

No. The first had been after Eggsy had failed the dog test, and taken his mentor’s car for a joyride. Harry had been disappointed back then; had looked at Eggsy with scorn and disappointment, as though wondering what he’d ever seen in the boy.

However, back then, Eggsy had still been holding onto his righteous anger to counter that heavy gaze. He’d been in the right back then, and Eggsy knew that to be true still. Back then, Harry had still been able to bear looking at him though. He’d explained what Eggsy had done wrong, and even promised that they’d talk about it further, right before he’d gone on to get shot in Kentucky.

Back then, Eggsy still hadn’t done the unforgivable.

“He can’t even bear to look at me, Roxy,” Eggsy tried to explain. “Shit, scratch that, he can’t even fucking stand to be in the same room as me without trying to bugger off as fast as he can!”

And wasn’t that the part that hurt the most. Even at his most disappointed, Harry had still spoken to Eggsy. Coldly, but he had. He hadn’t utterly ignored Eggsy’s presence, as though the younger man wasn’t worth the mud underneath those bloody fancy Oxfords of his. Eggsy hadn’t been completely worthless in the other man’s eyes.

Roxy sharply knocked on the table to grab his attention once.

“You stop wallowing in your misplaced angst, and bloody well think for a moment!”

If the knock on the table hadn’t grabbed his attention, her words certainly would have. Roxy didn’t swear. Not ever where he could hear, at least. And now, the fond mocking exasperation that had been marking her face had lost all trace of amusement. Eggsy wasn’t sure whether he preferred her current expression to the previous one, even though it demonstrated that she’d fully grasped the seriousness of the situation.

“I can’t believe I’ve been downgraded to the role of marriage counsellor, seriously,” she muttered almost too low for Eggsy to hear. Then, she pointed a finger to his chest. “You are feeling guilty for scratching Harry in the face; I get it. That fact grants a grand total of five minutes of sadness before you move on, alright?”

Despite knowing there was only one correct answer, Eggsy leaned forward to protest. “It wasn’t just any scratch Rox, it was-“

“Yes, I know. It was right over Valentine’s scar, and I’m sure it was a very sad and overwhelmingly traumatizing experience for the both of you,” she replied. “Blah, blah, blah, still not the point.”

That was  the point though, and Eggsy couldn’t stop the flinch that came over him at the mention of the mark Valentine had left on Harry.

“Oh,” Roxy breathed with dawning realisation. “That is the point, isn’t it?”

“I stabbed him over his scar, Roxy,” Eggsy said pointedly. “He hates this scar, we both know this, and he hasn’t been able to look at me since.”

Eggsy didn’t mention that the few times he’d seen Harry look at him, the man had quickly averted his face and put some distance between the both of them, like he thought Eggsy would attack again. Eggsy hadn’t tried to get closer after that.

“Did it ever cross your mind that he might think the same?” Roxy’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

At Eggsy’s questioning look, she elaborated. “Harry. Did it occur to you that he might be avoiding you because he thinks he hurt you as well?”

Eggsy scoffed. “That wouldn’t make any sense; he sure as hell didn’t stab me,” he protested.

“Don’t look at me like that, Eggsy, I’m not Harry and I don’t know how the man thinks," she said as she pointed a finger to his face. "However, I know you. And I know you don't stab people in the face unless you have a very good reason.”

Eggsy tried to protest again, because this wasn't Harry's fault. Why couldn't Roxy see that? It seemed like his friend wouldn't hear more, however, because she'd stood up and seemed ready to leave.

“Eggsy, talk to the man," she said as she turned away. "Go back to the house, and talk this out between the two of you."

 


	4. Anti-climatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Harry finally makes his way back to the house, he finds it suspiciously silent.

When Harry finally built up the nerve to have a discussion with Eggsy, it wasn’t entirely his own doing. With Merlin’s words ringing in his ears (just talk to him, Harry, for fuck’s sake!), Harry finally make his way back to the house. However, he found it suspiciously silent.

Looking around as he crossed the threshold, the man noticed that nothing seemed to have been moved much since he’d last left it. A glance at the kitchen revealed that Eggsy had removed the food from the stove, but opening the fridge led Harry to discover that the milk had begun to spoil. Even Eggsy’s chicken was still there.

By this point, Harry would’ve been worrying about Eggsy’s condition (had he been kidnapped? Attacked by one of Harry’s rare living enemies?), but the state of the fridge led him to a different conclusion. Harry had seen Eggsy at the Kingsman HQ no more than 3 days before, as the younger man was coming out of a meeting with Merlin. In light of this information and the milk’s expiry date being two weeks previous, it was safe to conclude that Eggsy hadn’t set foot in the house for quite a while… Possibly even since the incident.

Harry absently rubbed his chest at that thought, now used to the automatic tightness that spread across through it whenever he thought of Eggsy’s confused and terrified expression right before he slashed the pen across Harry’s temple. Had it only been a month since the incident? It certainly felt like longer than that to Harry.

Temporarily giving up the kitchen as a lost cause, the agent walked up the stairs, feeling oddly drained by the lack of confrontation he’d geared himself up for. As he passed by Eggsy’s room on the way to his own, the man couldn’t help but slow his steps and open the door. He felt a fond smile spread across his lips at the orderly mess that permeated it.

Typical Eggsy. Keeping his room in general order with just one very messy corner. Letting himself in, Harry closed the door on his way and breathed in, deeply. Even after all this time, the room had retained the feel of the owner. This room smelled like Eggsy in a way the rest of the house didn’t. Standing alone in his protégé’s bedroom, Harry almost felt as though the younger was in there with him, a familiar quip at the tip of his tongue.

Almost pulled by an unknown force, Harry slowly meandered towards the bed, Eggsy’s bed. Preparing to let himself fall down in it, to bury himself in the sweet solace of Eggsy’s scent, Harry paused as he registered the feel of his clothing brushing against his skin and grimaced. It wouldn’t do to run the line of this suit by lying down, would it? Ruining suits on a mission was unavoidable, but Harry was loath to do so with undue reason.

Harry firmly convinced himself that the integrity of the Kingsman suit was the only reason why he was stripping away his jacket with care, before suspending it on a hook he’d insisted on Eggsy having. No, he thought as he peeled off his trousers and folded them atop a chair. He wasn’t removing his clothing because he wanted to bury himself in Eggsy’s bed, he reasoned, unbuttoning his shirt. He wasn’t stripping down to the least amount of clothing possible because he wished to feel Eggsy all around him; feel the younger man’s presence covering his skin and seeping into his bones. He wasn’t.   

The denial didn’t last for long though. Soon enough, Harry was lying on Eggsy’s bed,a pillow pressed against his nose to better inhale the absent man’s scent. Bringing his hand down to his uncovered crotch, Harry slowly stroked himself to hardness at the thought of Eggsy. Eggsy’s eyes, gleaming with awe towards Harry at the begging of their acquaintance. Those beautiful eyes, usually emanating fondness everytime they were turned towards him. He thought of Eggsy’s smile, oh god his smile. So bright and dangerous when he’d just finished a mission.

Harry both loved and hated that sharp edge of danger in his darling boy’s face. He loved it because it was a reminder that Eggsy could be just as dangerous as Harry himself was. That he could be a predator underneath that rough exterior, polished and deadly. And Harry hated it, he reminded himself as he tightened his fist around his straining prick; just a tad too much to be comfortable, setting an almost punishing pace.

He hated that damned hypnotizing smile, because it made him want; made him long for what he could never hope to have. That smile made him believe just for a moment that maybe he wouldn’t completely ruin Eggsy; that Eggsy could ruin him in return. The simple thought of it; of what Eggsy and he could do to each other, was enough for Harry to splatter his stomach with his release, breath catching in pleasure.

Then, he exhaled slowly, washing away the afterglow with a lingering mixture of pain and guilt that had become more and more familiar in the last few weeks. He had no right to  use Eggsy in this way, not without his consent.

But he did. And although he regretted it, it didn’t make him stop.   


	5. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two favourite idiots finally talk to each other, and realise they've been dumb.

Harry was emptying a jug of milk in the kitchen sink when Eggsy came in. And honest to God, Eggsy had prepared a speech for this moment. Which he usually never did! But he’d seen the merit in Roxy’s suggestion, so there he was. At the entrance of the kitchen, with his mouth opened to speak, only for it to close again at the strange scene that greeted him.

Namely Harry, at the sink, emptying a jug full of milk while the fridge was open and…Oh.

Eggsy surveyed the scene with a new gaze. Now that he actually paid attention to his surroundings, there seemed to be white clumps in that sink, as though the milk had gone bad, and even the vegetables in the fridge had gained a less than healthy appearance. That definitely shouldn't have happened. Harry was a stickler for order in the house, and absolutely hated throwing away stuff that could have been useful. This wasn't like him at all, and Eggsy voiced his suspicions. 

“Eggsy, I’m-“

“How long have you been gone?”

An awkward silence fell at that, and god did Eggsy hate it. He and Harry did not have awkward silences. They had comfortable silences. Silences filled with words better left unsaid, filled with promises.

Eggsy wasn’t willing to have silence any longer, not after those last few weeks filled with pointed silences whenever they happened to be in each other’s presence.

“Harry,” he started, hating the hesitancy in his voice. “You haven’t been staying here, have you?”

For a fraction of a second, Eggsy thought he’d glimpsed a crack in his partner’s façade, but it barely lasted any length of time before it was gone as though he’d imagined it. At that, Harry finally let go of the jug of milk, and meticulously washed his hands before he turned to Eggsy. 

"I rather thought you deserved the space, after what I did," the older man replied, eyes failing to meet with Eggsy's. 

“What you did,” Eggsy said, the string of apologies he was ready to let out of his mouth stopping before he could utter the first word.

What did Harry even want to apologise for? The whole incident had been Eggsy’s fault! It had been his fault that Dean’s memory was enough to destabilise him into forgetting his surroundings; his fault that he didn’t manage to snap out of it. It had been his fault that Harry got stabbed in the fucking face!

Eggsy hadn’t known that Harry was the kind of man who suffered from misplaced guilt, but this was clearly such a case. The younger man’s confusion must have shown on his face, because Harry tried to clarify his previous thought.

“I apologise,” the man began. “I should have realised sooner that my actions were causing you a significant amount of distress, and stopped before the spar became too heated.”

Eggsy’s eyes bugged at the sheer idiocy of what he was hearing, and he couldn’t help himself.

“I’m the one who fucking stabbed you in the face!” he blurted out indignantly. “You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for! I’m the one who-”

“You were defending yourself. We both know you wouldn’t have attacked if I hadn’t backed you into a corner,” was Harry’s implacable response.

Eggsy was taken aback by the vehemence in Harry’s voice as well as the serious expression he was sporting.  He was also quite a bit angered, because what. Did Harry seriously think Eggsy was going to let him take all the blame?

“Sure,” he said dubiously. “Which is why you’ve been avoiding me like you’re afraid I’m gonna stab you in the face again, because that’s what I did,” he ended, tone positively oozing with scepticism.

Surprisingly enough, Harry dropped his serious expression for a puzzled one at that.

“That’s not why I was avoiding you,” the older man said. “I was giving you space away from me so you would not have to suffer my presence.”

“Oh,” Eggsy realised. “You thought I wanted to avoid you too!”

Harry’s raised eyebrow was judging him, Eggsy knew. However, at this point, Eggsy was too happy to care, because Harry did not hate him after all. Harry had been trying to protect him; to spare him some pain instead. Eggsy couldn’t help the grin that split his face.

“We’re idiots,” he laughed. “The biggest idiots Kingsman has ever seen”

The corner of Harry’s lips quirked up in a wry grin.

“Remind me to tell you about some of the shenanigans Percival and Lancelot got up to back in the days,” he joked. “They might just change your mind”

Eggsy released the breath he’d been holding at the return of the Harry he knew and loved.

“So…” Eggsy hesitated before he soldiered on. “Does that mean we’ll be housemates again?”

Eggsy leveled a fond glare at him. “You’ve spoiled me with your cooking; I’m afraid I won’t be able to go without anymore,” he grinned.

The relief that surged through Eggsy at the easy camaraderie sent a burst of hope through his body, one that was quickly followed by a welcome bout of recklessness. There was no time for hesitation anymore, not after he’d been away from Harry for so long.

Eggsy’s head was clear when he walked towards Harry with a determined expression. It was clear as he raised his hands to cradle Harry’s jaw. And he had never been surer of a decision than when he leaned forward, took in the bespectacled man’s slightly bemused expression, and pressed his lips against Harry’s slack mouth.

It felt, Eggsy though, a lot like coming home. After the hell that had been the last few weeks – being away from Harry and thinking the other man despised him – Eggsy had decided not to waste anymore time; he’d chosen to go all in. And it seemed to be a good decision, the young agent realised with no small amount of relief when he felt Harry’s hands rest against the small of his back as warm lips moved with his own.

Eggsy didn’t know exactly how long the kiss lasted. 30 seconds, maybe. Less than a few minutes, surely. It felt like an eternity to Eggsy. Too long and too short at the same time, yet surprisingly passionate for the lack of tongue.

It was good, and perfect, and Eggsy was smiling when he backed away; his smile widening when Harry made to follow.  They smiled at each other like idiots, and yet neither of them wanted to interrupt the moment.


End file.
